Chime
by wynnebat
Summary: It's both too late and too early for them to meet. Siren!Lucius/mate!Harry.


Title: Chime  
Summary: It's both too late and too early for them to meet, and the old gods must have been drunk off ambrosia when they created this bond. Siren!Lucius/mate!Harry.  
Warnings: creature!fic, _implied future slash_. Lucius is oddly scrupulous. I must be doing something wrong xD  
Disclaimer: Some dialogue bits were taken directly from the movies, but most are my own. I don't claim to own Harry Potter, nor do I make any profit from this work of fiction.

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There was no need to wonder who the child was.

His voice reached Lucius from behind the entrance to Platform Nine and Three Quarters, too far for Lucius to have heard it naturally, but close enough for his blood to realize just who it came from. The words he said were trivial, their tone even less important, but the clear way they echoed in his head despite the distance, the way they curled around his thoughts until they were the only words he could think made it all too clear. Despite their outward insignificance, these were the first words Lucius heard his mate speak.

"Lucius?" Narcissa asked, folding her hand under his elbow. It was a gesture of comfort and a reminder of where they were. She had noticed his uncharacteristic inattention. "Is everything alright?"

_No, it isn't_, he meant to say before he forced the words back down. His heart beat too quickly, and he tried to calm himself. _I have found my mate and it's too late, too late for this, I can't, I don't want—_

"I will be back shortly," he told her instead, and nodded to Draco, who took it as his cue to depart for the train. They had already said their good-byes in the privacy of their home.

He crossed the archway to the Muggle part of the train station for the first time in his life and looked around with trepidation, unease growing at the coming meeting. All he wanted to was Apparate away and lock himself in his manor home for the next forty years until his mate was aged and graying and not so damnably young. But he knew that even if he tried, the melody of their bond would keep him from Apparating. The childish voice was a noose around Lucius' neck. One made of silk or rope, Lucius didn't know.

He closed his eyes to the music, let it wash over him, let it smooth away his fears, and opened his eyes to his future. For a moment, he was able to hope that his mate wasn't a first year, the same age as his son. That his voice only sounded young. But both too close and too far away was the voice as it said, "But there has to be a Platform 9 ¾."

His future was a black-haired first year with a snowy owl and Lucius sighed while a part of him crooned and whispered, "Mine."

"Not yet," he told it, and pushed the Siren part of himself deeper inside his mind.

There he was, standing by Platform Nine: Lucius' mate. The person Lucius had waited decades to meet, alternately hoping they both would and would never hear each other's voices. His mate was a boy in Muggle clothes and obviously as different from Lucius as a Crup and Basilisk were. He was talking to uniformed Muggle as Lucius watched from under the archway's specialized Notice-Me-Not Charm. The boy wouldn't notice anyone going either into the wall or out of it unless he already knew how to cross it, or the people crossing were being too loud.

"It's on my ticket," the boy said, plainly nervous, his voice frayed.

The Muggle sneered and said something demeaning that Lucius couldn't catch through the loudness of the station. Soon the Muggle left, thinking the boy's questions and ticket were a joke, and Lucius' mate was left looking around and worrying his lip.

For a moment, Lucius considered ignoring the child. He was uncomfortable enough with the concept of having a child for a mate, not to mention that the child was likely a Muggle-born if he was looking for the platform. But this was his only chance to see his mate until Christmas holidays, or maybe even the next year. Knowing that, he hardly had a choice except to go up to him.

Lucius sighed and cast a spell to ensure he wouldn't be noticed by Muggles when he left the barrier. There was no choice, not for him. Not with the way the boy's voice had so quickly tied them together.

He looked even younger up close, dressed in overlarge Muggle clothing and dragging along a cart taller than himself.

The boy didn't see Lucius' entrance, and startled when Lucius said, "The Statute of Secrecy is in place for a reason, child. I would caution you against showing that ticket to Muggles."

He turned sharply toward Lucius, and his eyes widened as he took in Lucius' robes and stern words. Green eyes, Lucius noted. Had they been on an older face, he would have called them attractive.

"I'm sorry, sir," he said, abashed. "Can you tell me how to get on the platform? Mr. Hagrid brought me here, but he didn't say I had to do magic to get on the platform." Each word echoed in Lucius' ears, captivating his senses. Despite his unhappiness at having such a young mate, Lucius wanted to sing. More than that, he wanted to hear his mate sing, wanted to let the music wash over him. Lucius could almost imagine the boy's voice decade from now.

"And you don't. All you need to do is walk under the third archway between stations nine and ten. Come. I will guide you."

There were too many Muggles around them – smelly, dirty, things not fit for his mate. His mate, who was related to them somehow. But he would consider those implications later, when there was some distance between them.

He rested his hand on the boy's shoulder, and they walked together through the barrier between two worlds. Narcissa didn't come toward them from her spot only meters away, and Lucius inclined his head in thanks. Later, when they were far away from this station, he would explain things to her and ask for her forgiveness. But for now, he was with his mate.

Lucius stayed with him far longer than he should, finding the child an empty compartment and levitating his belongings on the luggage rack above their heads. He was reluctant to leave, even though he knew he must. In the end, he shook the boy's hand and said,  
"My name is Lucius. Call my name or send an owl, and I will respond." Both because the mate bond would leave him with little choice, and because something about the child, so young and fragile, just Draco's age, made him yearn to protect him.

"Is this because of my scar?" the boy asked suspiciously. "Because just because I vanquished some evil wizard doesn't mean you should just offer me your help."

_Dear Merlin, please— _

Lucius' hand brushed the boy's hair from his face, traced the bumps of scar tissue on his forehead. It was in the shape of a lightning bolt and warm to the touch.

"This has nothing to do with your scar," he says, looking into green eyes that once belonged to a Mudblood. Internally, he sighed and told the fates that he was too old to change his entire outlook on the world, to change his long-held beliefs. But he could already feel himself forgiving Lily Evans for her dirty blood because she bore his mate.

He left him there, left his mate on a train to another country, and rejoined his wife at the station. She didn't ask what had held him up and he didn't answer. Instead, they watched the train whistle and pick up speed, their thoughts with the two boys leaving them behind.

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This story is a one-shot so far, but I might expand it into a multi-chapter story one day. Just subscribe to the story if you're interested :D

The best compliment you could give a writer is a constructive review.

And if you're looking for more Lucius/Harry stories, I direct you to Amanuensis' A World Not So Black Nor White and Lomonaaeren's Sympathy for the Predators.

Bye!


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